Daily Deliveries
by troof
Summary: Feliks wanted to know how unlucky he had to be to be stuck with the job of delivering another girl's love letters to the guy he likes. He couldn't just stop; he's the mail carrier and his family wouldn't let him change routes. Maybe he'd wait for Toris to fix everything.
1. Delivery

Translation notes:

proszę bardzo: you're welcome (formal)

wujek: uncle

cześć: hello

* * *

Feliks never traveled far from his family. They had a close relationship, one that had lasted even until his twenties. It came in handy several times; it was to his uncle, who ran the post office, that Feliks owed his current job as mail carrier. It wasn't glamorous, and he sorely regretted it whenever the weather turned wet, but he was glad to have something. He mainly worked in the rural areas, so it wasn't as big of a deal and there was no required uniform (that was a major selling point). For the past months he had done the route in seven hours with a moped in a skirt, and it worked well. Several times there were too many letters for him to take with him or set on the back under the seat, so he had to return to the post quite frequently.

Even though he always went out alone, it was never lonely. Someone was usually out tending their garden or getting in the car, and there were the frequent bike riders, too. If not, it was still warm and green out, and he had a bag of letters to keep him company. He wasn't allowed to read them, but Feliks found it interesting to look at the design of the stamp chosen by the sender as well as the type of envelope. It didn't always make a difference because so many people opted for the cheap standardized ones, but he did come across fun stamps obviously intended to amuse. For example, the one on a small envelope with cramped handwriting decorated with a funny clown doll destined for the house with a small child.

Feliks wasn't familiar with everyone in the area—in fact, there were more strangers than friends. But he still felt comfortably welcome. It didn't matter how he felt anyway, because this was his job but, there weren't many that knew him further than "that guy who says hi and delivers the mail." Like the people at this house right here on Bartoszyce, for example. Little more than a hut at first glance, upon closer inspection it had clear-cut window frames and more space than previously thought. The owner must have been the middle-aged woman outside straightening the low fence. She noticed him when the engine cut off, and whether this was a good or a bad thing, Feliks couldn't say. Just that it was inevitable.

He rummaged in his bag for her stack of mail, which turned out to be quite thin, and went to put it in the crooked mailbox when she spoke up. "It's getting late, isn't it?" the woman said, annoyed.

"Yeah, it's past noon," Feliks agreed.

"It gets later every day, doesn't it?" Feliks wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he had an idea. If this was another complaint about his self-imposed schedule, he should probably be going soon.

"Maybe a little," Feliks ventured. "I should really get going, I have to deliver the mail." Now was the time to run. The woman was standing at least ten meters away, and made no effort to come up to him. She was close to shouting to be heard, and Feliks was, too.

"No, I meant that as a complaint! You're never consistent and you get here with the mail later and later every day. Do you sleep in every morning? Maybe I should call your supervisor and talk to him about hiring someone so young. At least it's better than yesterday, when you arrived when, around three?" Feliks flinched. Maybe it was better that he didn't know some of these people. Grumpy farmers. "What's your name?" He debated whether he should answer or not.

"Łukasiewicz." The woman mumbled something to herself and then yelled at him for not getting on with his job. He almost did, but before he started up the moped again he had one more thing to say.

"Why is this such a big deal? It's not like you have a lot of mail, you have two letters today and that's hardly anything compared to this load I have to carry with me! Yesterday you had one magazine and that's it. You can't tell me you're serious."

She raised her head from where she was working at the fence to glare at him again, and it conveyed enough menace to hastily set Feliks on his way once again. The thing was, though, that Feliks hated hurrying. Contrary to popular thought, he did wake up early enough, but when he drove too fast the wind would tousle his hair and blow it all in his face, and it took too long to fix. Also, hopping on and off the scooter to load and unload the mail always worked up a sweat, especially under his armpits. So wasn't it easier to just take everything at his own pace? It wasn't like he ever left anything unfinished.

He wanted to after that day. That woman glared at him out her window every day she saw him. It was a constant source of stress, and he only managed to avoid it through his inconsistent timing. Eventually Feliks just learned to sigh and move on as quickly as he could. His uncle would say that he needed to make amends, but he wasn't at that stage yet. He just stayed uptight whenever he passed that house and the few houses after it, letting annoyance take over when he had to deliver to the similar-looking house next door or even the big white one with the steep roof and the big yard farther down the lane. He would gather up the mail in his arms, smooth out his sweater, and then shove it into the mailbox as hard as he could without severely damaging it.

The white house was coming up right now. He found the correct letters and was preparing to shove when he saw a young man coming up the path towards him.

"Hey, thanks, I was just coming out to get this. You have perfect timing," he said, taking the stack of papers from him. Feliks was caught off guard by this sudden courtesy and stood frozen trying to calm his emotions.

"Oh. Well, _proszę bardzo_." Feliks wanted to say something else because the man was quite handsome and today had been one of those lonely days, but nothing came to mind. "Wait a sec!" The man turned around, face framed by the light brown hair that had come loose from his ponytail. "Those aren't all yours, I was just preparing for the next house. Let me see those again." The youth walked back over and handed Feliks the other letters.

"Good thing you caught that. But if you hadn't I would have just returned them to you tomorrow, no big deal."

"Oh my god, that was totally my mistake!"

"It's fine," the man reassured him. Fine for him, maybe, but now he would always think of Feliks as the one who had mixed up the mail. So much for first impressions. Feliks's cheeks burned as he drove off. How is it that he had been over this route at least a hundred times over the course of this job without knowing there was someone attractive here? It was a shock! He sped away from the place as fast as he could, forgetting about the wind and his hair. He'd still have to come back tomorrow, and then he could straighten things out if the man was out front. Maybe he could ask his name.

Since Feliks didn't meet anyone else on his daily rounds except for the cows grazing at a distance, the rest of the day was very quiet. Now all he had to do was head back to the post office to park the moped in the back, and then he had the rest of the day to himself. It was technically a company vehicle, even though Feliks was the only one who ever used it. The moped he had now was a cherry red and only a few years old; it wasn't loud or uncomfortable. So he was grateful.

He hung the empty cloth bag on the handlebar and went inside to greet his uncle. Occasionally he would have some odd jobs that he could help with, but his _wujek_ was rarely understaffed. Feliks was in a good mood, so he decided he'd go and check. He easily sidestepped the queue and made his way towards the back to wait for his uncle, who was currently at the window.

On the counter there was a stack of forms with a sticky note on top saying that they needed to be filled out for a change of address. Filling out forms was never fun, and Feliks was contemplating whether he should start or not when he was interrupted by someone calling his name. He figured that must have turned the heads of everybody waiting in the next room. But he was glad to see his uncle, too, so he stepped forward to shake hands and receive the kisses on both cheeks that he was used to.

"How are you today? How was it?"

"Same as always, you know, with the open pastures and the farms and the people who are never delighted to see you because they moved to the countryside to get away from the noise, that grumble when you come up riding on a scooter. But then I say that I've brought the mail, and then they smile again. Don't worry, though, I greet the ones who aren't grumpy."

"That's good. I daresay the only reason you're still complaining is to get me to switch you to a city route, though," his uncle said.

This was true. Feliks asked him outright a while ago, but he had said that they already had all the postmen they needed working in the city. Then he asked why he couldn't just talk to one of them about switching, and received the reply that it was unnecessarily disruptive at the time and that he should try again later. Feliks believed that at first his uncle was worried about his level of experience, but that was months ago.

"It can't be that much trouble, can it? I know you're busy running the office and stuff, but I could talk to some of the carriers myself. Eduard might agree to switch." His uncle brought his hand to his chin while he thought it over.

"Yes, but still, no one has time to teach you a new route."

"Don't we, like, have maps in the cabinet?"

He didn't receive a reply. Felix grabbed a pen from the can on the desk and started to tackle the big pile of forms until he lost interest, which was sometime within the next few minutes. He guessed it was okay that he didn't receive an answer, because that didn't mean "no" either. And even if it had, of course it couldn't be "no" forever. All he had to do now was set everything up the next time the Estonian came in and hope it worked out.

"_Wujek_?"

"We'll see."

"Do you need these forms by tomorrow, or can I leave now?" Feliks asked.

"Go on home, that's really not your job anyway. I have a clerk for that, and that's because I don't like doing it myself!" Feliks's uncle laughed. "I'll see you later!"

There it stood, the house with that one guy. It did cross Feliks's mind that if he was visiting Poland, they'd never see each other again. Hopefully they were weekly visits, and he came back every Thursday or so. Yet today was Friday, and there he lingered in front, waiting. Feliks kicked out the stand on his vehicle and left it slanted over the curb.

"Excuse me, but do you have a letter for Toris Laurinaitus, by chance?" the man asked.

"That's you, right?" Feliks filed the name away in his mind while trying to stifle his excitement over actually learning his name.

"Right. I'm waiting on a message from my father. Letter, package, whatever that may be," said Toris. "Have you seen anything?"

Feliks wanted to help, he really did, but he looked all over himself and in the bag and he just couldn't find that letter. He found some bills with the family's surname, so he supposed he was obligated to hand those over instead.

"No, not really," Feliks answered. "But it'll get here one day, and I'll be carrying it, so, like, watch for me? I have these today," he continued, brandishing the white, oblong envelopes, "and they pretty much suck, but, like, I have to leave them here so here you go."

Toris made a face, but accepted them anyway.

"This is a disappointment. I guess I should still say 'thanks for stopping by,' though, you did come all the way out here."

"I'm here every day," Feliks said. Hopefully, he could get Toris in the habit of watching for him now instead of the other way around. Because if it was just him keeping an eye out, he could swing by at his usual time and not see Toris at all because the latter was sitting in an armchair with his back to the window. However, he had seen the same person two days in a row, before (that wasn't too rare).

Feliks wore his best skirt on Saturday, a cream-colored garment with pleats and seed beads sewn around the waistband. Naturally, he didn't see Toris on Saturday, because three days in a row was almost too much to hope for. He checked for his dad's letter in his bag, and came up empty-handed. Bills were the only thing he found that had the same address, so there was nothing worth calling him out for.

Without anything to look forward to, the ride back to the post office lasted longer than ever. There was a line of one person total who wanted to send a package to Russia, and it was no trouble at all for Feliks to weigh it and give her a receipt. Being inside the dimly lit post office always got to him really fast, so he hurried to step outside where he could watch for customers from the steps.

For the next five minutes, everything was quiet until a yellow van pulled up behind the building and lined itself up with the others. The driver got out, greeting Feliks with the familiar sight of a blond man wearing glasses.

"_Cześć_, Eduard!"

"Feliks! That's funny. Usually I'm back a good hour or so before you are, so it's good to see you. Did you start early?"

"I don't think so. There's not really any reason to. As long as I get all the work done, why does it matter how early I'm here? Like, it's the same reason why I don't check in half the time. It takes time away from the mail."

Eduard closed the trunk and walked over to where Feliks was sitting.

"Don't you need a way to count your hours, though? _Pan Łukasiewicz_ would be so confused if I went even a day without checking in."

"Nope. I just go about my daily business, and somehow everything works out!" Feliks said. On the last step, Feliks held the door open with his toe before it could hit the other's back and close completely. He needed to ask about the routes. Eduard looked like he was considering. "It would only be for a couple of days out of the week. Please? I don't get to see the city much, and like, I thought this was the perfect solution!"

"I don't mind. You'd have to get a map though, unless you know where you're going." That was easy enough; Feliks could grab one before he left and study it at home. As a matter of fact, he would probably have time to walk part of the route this Sunday. This was great! It had taken long enough, too. He was so happy that he let the heavy door go and accidentally let it slam into Eduard's back and bump him over the threshold. There was a muffled yelp, but Feliks was fairly sure he hadn't tripped and fallen on his face. That counted for something.

"Are you all right?"

"Good enough, I suppose."

Once he found the map, he realized it was rather dirty. The paper wasn't anything fancy or laminated, but he still felt like he could kiss it. The depiction was clear, and his way along _Ulica Bychawa_, the main street of the residential area, was clearly highlighted in pink. One major difference along the city route was that lots of people lived in multiple-story apartment buildings instead of individual homes, so he would be dropping off in industrial-looking cluster mailboxes instead of artsy individual ones (Some of them had been artsy. Others couldn't have looked worse if they were rotting). Considering this, and the fact that he would have a van, too, he expected the whole thing to go faster.

Briefly he worried how Eduard would adapt to his route, but Eduard was very practical and usually managed to get along fine.

Feliks's Sunday was spent in his comfortable, pastel-colored pajamas reading over that map. He could picture some of the landmark buildings from the previous times he'd been there, and he turned to his computer when the line continued so far that he no longer had a point of reference. Mostly boring stuff, but there were some shops along the way. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't do that yet; he was currently the farmhouse delivery boy.

It stayed that way for another week, frustratingly enough, with no new developments. Eduard was consistently early, green-eyed Toris was either too busy being shy or off somewhere else to make an appearance in his day—it was so not cool.


	2. Rain

Translation notes (Lithuanian):

Tétis: Dad

* * *

The mail trays always looked like crafts room receptacles for scrap construction paper. Each was packed with different sized envelopes with edges never lined up, and there were usually one or two letters in particular that were conspicuous in each section either because of the size or a crazy color.

The blond stifled a yawn and went over to his tray to collect the sorted papers. He checked the area codes as he slipped them in his bag to verify that they were for his town, and grabbed larger and larger stacks to transfer once he was sure everything was in order. A magazine here, a postcard there, more letters—Toris's letter was here, too. Feliks knew he'd be really happy to get it.

Feliks woke up as the day wore on, but the atmosphere was still sleepy. The clouds overhead were stifling. Riding along, he pulled open countless mailboxes by the road, even the ones that were rusting or full from yesterday and his bag lighter as he continued. The grass grew taller in every other field, but the road was never so unmaintained as to wear off into dirt.

Feliks heard the drops against the pavement before he felt them on his face. At first he couldn't believe what he was seeing, because today was _not_ the day. Today, he was going to deliver his letter to Toris and then sputter back off to the post office and maybe the nail salon later. Now, he would have to spend the day sloshing in and out of puddles minus the comfort of rain boots. He didn't even have cute rain boots (the ones he had stashed in his closet looked somewhat military, but whatever).

Turning onto the lane where the other boy lived, he saw the half-timbered house right ahead. As he hadn't seen him for the past two weeks, Feliks assumed he was gone, but the door opened as he approached. Toris stepped outside to adjust the flowerpots on the porch so that they could benefit from the rain as well and looked to be stepping right back inside. He waved so it didn't get awkward.

Feliks eagerly waved back.

"It wasn't supposed to rain today," Toris moaned. "That's awful." Feliks agreed.

"I know, right? Like, I'm almost done for the day, and then all of a sudden it starts raining on me. Not even sprinkling like it's supposed to do in the summer, but, like, pouring!" The longer he stood in the same spot, worn down enough to where the water pooled in the dip, the more water seeped up into his socks. Although he was glad to see Toris, he couldn't help but feel that he had it way easier under the covered entryway.

"Will you be okay? I can lend you an umbrella. You pass here every day so you could just return it when the weather's better," Toris said.

"That'd be nice. Thanks."

The whole time Toris was inside searching for it, Feliks was giddy that this handsome man was worried about him. Part of him knew that it was something anyone would have done and he was just being polite, but it still made him feel warm inside. He tried hard to forget the first part. It was so nice to know that the person he was crushing on could possibly be a total sweetheart, because he had seen plenty of stories of people in the magazines whose crushes were horrible people, and those never failed to be distressing. Toris was the opposite, calm and reasonable.

"Wait a second," he called from behind the door.

A couple minutes later, Toris brought out a tightly wrapped handle and jogged down the steps to hand it over. Upon shaking it out, Feliks realized it was more of an upright cane than anything. It was too heavy to hold while riding, and the sturdy canopy would probably catch in the wind and throw everything off balance.

"This isn't going to work," Feliks complained. "This thing is oversized! They really need to make these things smaller."

With that, he discarded the umbrella by tossing it over his shoulder. It nearly got tangled in his hair (which was now a sopping mess), bounced once on the pavement, then lay still. He glanced over at Toris to see if he agreed with him, only to find him looking overwhelmed and at a loss. "Well, it was really clunky. If I could find the store you bought it from, I'd take it back. Like, friendly advice."

Toris stood at a loss. "Um, please don't—"Toris tried. "As long as it's not broken—you still shouldn't throw—" Toris sighed. All his words were coming out more quietly than he intended. He wasn't sure Feliks heard him. Meanwhile, the umbrella lying on the street was likely to get damaged, so he went out in the lane to pick it back up. "Here, what if you held it under your arm?" he offered again. This stranger had rejected his offer once, but Toris really didn't want him to get wet.

"No, Toris, don't take it back!" Feliks looked scared.

"But why—"

"Because that style is definitely out right now. You should try a smaller one. Maybe a parasol. I mean, what if someone came along and hit you over the head with that thing!"

"Who would want to do that?" Toris looked back at the house. "The only one who might do that is my cousin, but she went home for another month. She's the crazy one." Although he grew up with her, Natasha still scared him. Part of it was how she had no problem with stalking people both openly and covertly. She was clingy and some people thought there was something wrong with her head, but instead of taking her to the hospital and bandaging up whatever was wrong, she wrapped a bow around her head and called it cute. Toris shuddered.

Feliks wished he could relate, but when he was growing up, all his aunts and great-aunts said _he_ was the odd one. It seemed like this conversation could go on for a while, so the letter carrier swung both his legs over the seat of the moped and leaned back on it from the other side. At first it threatened to tip over, but Feliks made it work. He went to adjust his bag, only to find that the envelopes were spotted and would soon get soggy. Fortunately, the neighbors wouldn't mind if the ink on their mail was a little smudged, judging by the amount of times he himself had woken up to a damp newspaper on the porch. Just in case, he pinched the bag closed to save what he could.

He thought he saw Toris's eyes flicker down to his hands briefly, but he couldn't be sure.

"Did your cousin give that to you?"

"What, this?" Toris waved the umbrella to indicate, then crossed his arms across his chest. He was about to answer, but he was interrupted by a sudden chill. A shiver ran through his body, and evident conflict flashed across his face, displayed by the darker set of his eyebrows.

"Hey, are you cold?," Feliks asked. "Maybe we should go on the porch." It wouldn't be good if Toris caught a cold because of him.

In spite of his wet clothes, Toris gave a chuckle. He had been debating over whether or not to invite him inside for tea this whole time. He made up his mind. "A little. All I said was 'it's wet,' and somehow we both ended up standing out here. I was wondering if it would be simpler if you just came inside with me. There's tea, chocolates, and a few more assorted foods in the kitchen." Feliks stood there in wonder. Did Toris just invite him in? Toris cleared his throat. "—We should probably find someplace to dry off those letters."

Feliks couldn't believe he was hearing right. He never really imagined the slow development of a relationship between them before, so he couldn't be making it up. In his mind, there was just the two of them walking arm in arm, himself clasping Toris's arm perceptibly tighter and he not minding. There were no memories that came before, no fantasies that preceded it. It was like a dream, with no logical beginning.

"You're totally right. Come on," the blond pressed, grabbing the other's hand and pulling him up the steps. Toris stopped on the last one and didn't move forward, standing still despite Feliks's tugging.

"Before we go inside, I just realized: I don't know your name."

Feliks told him, and Toris reintroduced himself despite having informally done so the last time they met. Smiling, the latter straightened out their hands so they could shake properly.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Here's your letter. It came, like, today."

"—_that my life here is substantive, and the restaurant hasn't received a single complaint in weeks. Raivis tells me he's still having trouble finding friends, so he loiters around here after school. He's completely welcome, and it's nearly become a rou_—"

"Does this say 'Lithuania'?"

While Toris shared his letter per his request, Feliks was enjoying the vinous chair on the other side of the coffee table. Toris's message was long, and from what he could tell he hadn't finished reading past the first page. So far, he had gathered that the reason Toris was living in this house was so he could take care of his elderly grandmother. His dad had started up a business back where he lived, and although he was doing well financially, the man wasn't planning on visiting his son anytime soon.

In all actuality, the brunet's voice was droning on, but Feliks found it interesting to hear about this other part of his life. If it were anyone else, it would have been different, but it wasn't. His eyes strayed to the wooden tabletop in front of him, to the empty envelope and the small switchblade used to cut it open. Feliks was surprised it was postmarked from somewhere else.

Toris took the envelope and handed it back.

"I lived there as a child."

"Isn't that country, like, a giant Soviet barracks?" That's not how Toris would put it. The country had tons of Soviet influence, but it still had beautiful architecture and a culture all its own.

"Uh, well, that's part of the reason I grew up here. _Tėtis _told me he fell in love somewhere around '86, at a bar nonetheless, but still, it worked out. They tossed around the idea of having a child for the longest time before they actually had me, but it was the wish of both of them not to have me grow up on the outskirts of the failing Soviet regime.

"There was an argument, and eventually dad made the decision that she should carry me to West Germany or another one of the free European countries. It wasn't until '88 that they finally did it, and as he was wrapped up in the reform movements and had some real hope for the future, he never had any time for Lina except to tell here how we were going to be independent. He couldn't leave. She believed it, too, and that coupled with the fact that she was scared to go without him, is why we never ended up in Germany.

"By the time I was ready, the protests and negotiations were still dragging on, so she, remembering the agreement, knew she had to go somewhere. Poland was appearing in the papers more and more often since it had just gained its independence, so she fled there. It was close enough that she could keep an eye on any new developments in her home country, although it was difficult to send letters and they hated anything Polish at the time. Plus, her own mother lived here, so it all worked out. Five years later, we went back to live with my father in Lithuania. I moved back here when I was older."

Feliks's eyes glossed over at some of the political parts, but still, he sympathized with him.

"Wasn't it hard being split up like that? You didn't know your dad for the first five years of your life. Did it seem strange when you went back to him?"

"Honestly, I can't remember not knowing him."

Feliks leaned back in his chair again, having leaned forward unconsciously while the brunet was talking. Now that he thought about it, Toris did have a slight accent as he went on, but it wasn't that distinguishable.

There was a momentary lull in conversation while Toris contemplated what to say next and Feliks was digesting what he had just heard. He took this opportunity to peel the wrapper off the Toris's Wedel bard and take a bite.

"So," he said between bites of delicious milk chocolate, "do you consider yourself Polish or Lithuanian?"

Unsure whether he should answer or not, Toris shifted in his seat and said he didn't know.

"Come on. I don't care either way, I was just curious."

"I'd have to say Lithuanian," Toris said after a moment. "Because of what my dad was involved in, I don't think I could bring myself to be completely Polish. But I do like living here."

When Toris got back to reading the letter, the rain still pattered steadily on the ground. Taking a corner of his skirt between his thumb and first two fingers, Feliks inspected a particularly stubborn wrinkle made even worse by being wet. The crushed velvet of the chair felt damp by this time as well, ruining any chance it might have had of being comfortable. At least the air conditioner wasn't humming in the background, making him cold out of his mind, but a heater would have been nice. Also a dry chair.

"Hey, Toris, do you mind if I sit with you?"

Said person patted the cushion next to him and continued reading, not bothered by the abeyance. Feliks plopped himself down in the seat indicated, leaning on Toris's arm that he could feel through the thin, soaked fabric of his jacket. It was a gesture of closeness that he hadn't thought of beforehand, but it worked out. Staying curled into his side was much more preferable than anything his job entailed this afternoon.

Preferable, until the clock chimed and Toris realized they had spent nearly forty-five minutes like that.

"You need to be going!" he freaked out. "I don't know if your bag's dry yet, and the important stuff in it's probably smeared silly at this point, but I know that the people waiting for it have probably been waiting for a while now."

The initial surprise Feliks had when Toris pushed him off wore off into a feeling of disappointment. He forgot that he hadn't finished passing out the mail.

"It's not even four o' clock yet, take it easy."

"What if you get in trouble for taking so long to finish your job? What if someone complains?"

They had complained. It happened so often now that Feliks didn't care. But they were more direct complaints, directed at him alone. Nobody bothered to call the office as far as he knew.

"Why shouldn't it be now? There could be one person just waiting for the time when you're especially late to call the post office on you. And since I've kept you this late, your manager will probably scold you now anyway, and if that happens it's my fault, too!" Toris wailed.

Feliks told Toris that he was was being too hard on himself; things were definitely not as bad as that. He was a little off schedule, yes, but the job would still get done. Waiting by the front door, he absentmindedly inspected his nails until the other stopped for breath and he could get a word in assuring him that everything was fine and there was nothing he could do.

Toris was blowing everything out of proportion. It wasn't like he would get fired or anything. He tried to get Toris to sit back down so he could bring him a cold washcloth or an aspirin or something of that kind, but in the end the best thing he could see to do for Toris's well-being was to quietly step out the door and finish his route (the rain had stopped some time ago), which he did after an unusually curt goodbye.


	3. Barn Buddies

Translation notes (Lithuanian):

Mociute: Grandmother

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and favorited! Each one means a lot.

* * *

Once Feliks had left, Toris slumped against the wall and tried to collect his thoughts. It took him a while to calm down from episodes like this, but with all the times his nerves got the better of him he didn't understand why the recovery time shouldn't have been less. He surveyed the room. There was the sliding glass door that led out onto the back patio in front of him, the bookshelf that stood behind the plush chair where Feliks had first sat behind the corner of the wall to his right, and the unnecessarily ornate chandelier that hung above the plain dining room off to the left: all familiar things. The sight of them was reassuring. Or were his eyes just roaming as a product of his frazzled nerves? One of the two.

He roused himself so that he would have time to start a book before Mociute came down. At this time of day she was napping in her room upstairs and she would get grumpy if anyone disturbed her. But when she woke up she was as jovial as a young woman again, and it was Toris's responsibility to get her cane and take her for a walk.

The book he chose was worn (secondhand, but still a good read). From what he could remember, the story was about a girl who adopts a horse and has to fight to keep it amidst poverty and tragedy. However, he couldn't make it past the first chapter without his thoughts wandering back to the events of earlier that day.

First off, he was glad to know his father was doing all right. He would have to write back to him soon. What about, though? Not much had been going on here.

And what about Feliks? Did he make it back okay? Why had he invited him in in the first place? Even if it was raining hard, he wasn't expected to do anything more than offer an umbrella or maybe offer his porch for shelter. Some would say that that was too much for someone you didn't know that well, but since he had grown used to Feliks passing his house every day, he definitely thought of him as more than a stranger.

Feliks could be a bit tactless, but Toris sensed that he never meant to be rude. Besides, Feliks made good company, a stark change from the banal silence that always pervaded the house. Right now he was enjoying his solitude, but it wouldn't be too long before he started missing the other man's loud voice.

Klava knocked on the door of the one-person restroom, getting impatient because her brother was taking too long. Her brother was Feliks, and she was Feliks's little sister, almost four. As such, she thought she should be able to see him whenever she wanted. She jiggled the handle as well, but only minutely because she was barely a meter high and couldn't reach up without considerable trouble and strain on her tiptoes. "Are you done yet? Feeeeeeliks, I wanna see!"

Irked at not being able to see the lower half of his body, said person backed up to the door to inspect his legs in the waist-high mirror over the sink. The pants didn't fit as snugly as he would have liked, sagging in the crotch area and becoming shapeless everywhere else, and the jacket was even worse. Fabricated out of nylon, it was guaranteed to be waterproof, but the combination of dark blue nylon with yellow lettering didn't look natural. That was the price he would have to pay for working in the city. Aside from the noise it made when he swung your arms, it looked like a deflated version of a heavy winter coat.

"You will get to see! Like, soon, right after I'm done. Can you get me a smaller pair of pants?" Feliks asked.

"Small! Ex-_ex_tra small!"

Klava hopped over to the box of uniforms and checked the tags on several of the trousers. That's what she had seen Feliks doing, so it must have been the right thing to do; since she had no idea what any of them meant, she took the one on top.

Feliks heard the handle jiggle again. He unlocked it and pulled the other trousers through the opening before swiftly closing it again, setting Klava off on another of her whining streaks.

"Feeeeliks, nowwww! I have to go to the bathroom!"

"Use the one for girls, it's right next door."

"Will you be in there?"

"I can't be. I'm in here, changing. But I'm sure it smells twenty times better over there, so you should go over there. I'm out of air freshener, and it totally sucks. Maybe I should go over there," Feliks mused.

"Yay, yay!" Klava clapped her hands. "Then you can be with me!" Listening closely at the door, Feliks guessed that his sister hadn't actually taken his advice. She seemed to be excited, but she just stood there. She was waiting for him like she always did.

The second pair of pants fit exactly the same as the first, and that was when Feliks realized he probably should have either asked someone else to help or gotten the pair himself. Straightening the waistband, he reflected on how much neater skirts were. He didn't wear them all the time because liked to change up his wardrobe every so often, but they were great for warm weather and he didn't own any shorts.

Eduard came in at that moment and told Klava to quiet down. Her voice was distracting when it carried over to the other room. Klava smiled at him, and reached her arms out expectantly. Not wanting to disappoint her, Eduard swung her up into his arms after a moment's hesitation. Feliks wished he could say the same when he came out to model; this wasn't his usual look.

"How do you like it?" Eduard asked his fellow letter carrier.

"Personally, I think they could use a new design. Red, or a bold color like that. I just feel kinda sloppy, you know?"

Feliks started rifling through the box himself to find the correct size. The jacket he would take off and set aside, because that he was keeping. Eduard massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to contain the need to assert himself.

"I can't say I agree on that. What we wear is the official uniform of the Poczta Polska, and we've worn it for so long that it's easily recognizable by everyone we pass. It's both comfortable and easy to move around in. I've never worked without it. But I can see how it would take some getting used to. You need to find one that fits, that's all."

"I helped him," Klava bragged. Feliks ignored her.

"That's pretty hard. All these pants are so loose, I've had to try on, like, three different pairs so far. I bet if I were as tall as you, I wouldn't be having all these problems."

Klava was more of a hindrance than a help, but she didn't have anywhere else to go, and she had a way of keeping everyone's spirits up, even though Feliks would never admit it. When he found the correct top and bottoms, Eduard folded them up and recommended he take two of each so he could switch off and not have to wash the same one every night.

As for their route, they agreed to switch off on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Feliks's uncle approved the agreement, so it all worked out. Feliks would begin at five, then drive into the city to start work. Packages would already be in order, so all he would have to do is load them into the back of the van. It occurred to Feliks to wonder why he'd have to wear a uniform if he would be in the van most of the time, but he didn't protest.

He liked that it made him feel like a part of the office as opposed to just someone who had gotten in through family connections.

Slowly it occurred to him that he would have no chance of seeing Toris while he worked in the city. This was right before he turned to go, and his face must have shown something because Eduard asked him if something was wrong. He shook his head no, but the thought continued to plague him on the way home. It wouldn't be a big deal as long as he was only going the different route two days a week, but he had gone into this with the intention of transferring permanently. The city had too many attractions: shops, malls, spas, eccentric street performers—it was way too much to pass up.

He _could_ visit Toris in the evenings, but then he'd be tired and worn out from work. Would Toris even welcome him if he visited outside of his daily shift?

Next weekend, he decided to find out. He arrived on Toris's doorstep late afternoon with a bag of bonbons and a bale of hay. He figured it was a suitable gift. Both of them had farms, and personally, his horse could never get enough. Toris was a long time coming to the door, so the blond set the hay down on the step so he wouldn't have to struggle with it anymore.

Feliks inspected his reflection in the window; it wasn't the best angle, and it didn't look like him, the glass warping and putting bubbles in his face that made it look like a lumpy nightmare. Something had made him choose to wear pants and a tie this morning on a last-minute impulse to make a good impression (He could have done that in anything he wore, but today he chose the tie. It screamed a nice shade of pink).

Toris answered the door in clothes that weren't half as nice.

"Oh, Feliks, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long. I hope you're not mad. Why the.. big bale of hay?"

"It's a gift. From me to you. Common interests and all that good stuff, so we can feed the cows together. And candies, if you prefer those."

"I've already fed the cows for today," Toris explained as he picked up the hay and carried it to the barn along with the other stacks.

Feliks worried. That was what he had planned to do when he came over, so that completely upset his plans for the day. He was terrible at coming up with date ideas! If they didn't have anything to do, Toris could say he had to be busy and send him home, which wouldn't be fair because his house was a good 25 minutes away. So he tried asking again safe under the rafters of his home.

"What if you missed one?" Feliks asked. "I think we should go check and see if you skipped one. If they get hungry they'll get mad and they'll kick you."

Toris insisted that he only had five and hadn't forgotten to feed a single one, but he took Feliks out to see them anyway. They were all black except for one. Feliks and Toris traipsed through a patch of tall grass to get to the cows' pasture, both terrains nothing like the dirt floor of the barn and far more treacherous. Inside the fence, Feliks came close to stepping in a pile of manure and would have if Toris hadn't steered him aside.

"My gosh, Toris, you saved me! You would make a great boyfriend." he complimented. Immediately after, Toris blushed and ran back to the house to get him an extra pair of boots. Feliks's current loafers weren't really "work shoes".

Left alone in the open field, Feliks contemplated the sky. Little light shone through the clouds and gave the whole landscape had a rather dreary look, but Feliks was focused on how vast it made everything seem. The sky came down low and met the land over a slight rise to the right. If he turned away from the house, he could pretend like he was completely alone and none of the neighbors existed. He wanted to share it with Toris, if he ever got back. He was taking forever.

Panting, Toris came running toward him.

"Here. I've never looked at your shoes before, but you look like you'd be about the same size as me. Why don't you try these on?"

Secretly he wasn't sure they would fit because Toris had big feet, but he didn't care because he really wanted to try on this guy's shoes. Bending down to take off his first shoe, Feliks decided to situate himself atop the board fence because there was no place to rest his sock-clad foot without getting it dirty, so. He pulled the new boots on and dropped his shoes on the ground below. The boots didn't fit snugly, but he pretended they did so he could keep wearing them. If he told himself they did, they would. Feliks supposed he should get up and walk around with them to see if they truly worked or not, but he found it relaxing to stay where he was.

"Hey, do you mind if we stay here for a minute?" he asked.

"Sure, no problem." Toris sat down in the grass at Feliks's feet, head against one of his boots. "It's getting late, though, in case you need to be home by a certain time."

"No, I've got forever."

Cows mooed lowly, the sounds carrying from all the way across the field. They stayed in largely the same areas and didn't disturb the two men at all. Feliks's foot was more of a distraction for Toris than they were. Idleness and excitement made him swing his legs against the fence, shaking it every time they hit. Calmly, Toris reached up and stilled one, and Feliks glanced down at him inquisitively.

"What? I have energy."

He relaxed soon afterwards, training his eyes on the orange sun before it receded behind the hill. Every so often they would flick down to Toris's face to see if he was enjoying it, too, but only wavy hair was visible. He wanted to brush his neck with the top of his boot, but decided that wasn't such a good idea considering where they'd been.

Toris suggested they walk around the perimeter of the fence before they go in to enjoy the last of the daylight and see the rest of the cows. It enclosed roughly a hectare of land until it met up with the house again. There was no trail, so the two of them set off through the grass again.

Feliks tired out when they were only halfway around. This was a big area of land. Since he lived with his grandmother, Feliks wondered if Toris had to walk out this far every day alone or if he had help. It didn't seem like it, but he put the question out there anyway. Apparently there was a girl who used to come out and help take care of the farm, but she wasn't here now. She had to be somewhere though, she couldn't disappear from Toris's life without some big fuss. So where was she? Across the street, or in the neighborhood hiding behind some hill, like the newly set sun?

Feliks would have been happy to help (he was great at giving company), if only to spend time with the one he might be able to fall in love with. Caught up in the romance of the evening, he found himself laughing as they went in the door. He wondered if Toris was aware of it.


	4. Unsure

Translation notes (Lithuanian):

Viskas tvarkoj: it's all right

* * *

These past few days with Toris to look forward to, Feliks had been content. It wasn't the kind of happiness where he blew kisses everywhere you went, but it was the kind that allowed shorter skirts and his little sister an occasional ride on the handlebars. His uncle would have described him as "distracted," but no more than usual.

Daydreams occupied Feliks when he was left doing the same task for too long, like when he sorted mail or jotted down notes for hours on end. They usually started around the one hour mark, only this time instead of purebred ponies, Feliks dreamed of Toris's barn. Surprisingly, he didn't remember it well, although he had seen it a few days ago. Toris's slender body was all that stuck.

Lucky for him, it saved a lot of blushing and flustered explanations that no one except Eduard asked him about any new behavior. He didn't want to explain every new development or slip up along the way, and he didn't want to suffer everyone's disappointment for him if a relationship didn't work out, so he was glad that no one asked. It was easier to restrain tears when you didn't have to look anyone in the face or explain why you were so upset.

What did it for Feliks was the postcard that came for Toris today. From somewhere abroad, with a glittering skyline pasted on the front, and nonsensical scrawlings next to the address, it was small enough that Feliks didn't notice it until it fell out of the stack at his house. The only reason he stopped to look at it was that there were little hearts drawn around the border like the outline of a marquee for a horrible movie.

The first few lines were just friendly greeting wishing Toris all the best, but afterwards it regressed into memories of kisses and hugs and told how much he was missed. It wasn't any mushier than something Feliks would have been tempted to write himself, but the difference was this person had bothered to send it. The card was addressed from Poland, so it probably hadn't been that long since Toris and his girlfriend had seen each other anyway. She must have wanted a postcard to flaunt her affection.

Feliks reviewed the message three times before he collapsed on the curb because he couldn't bear to look at it again. He'd like to stomp on it or hurl it in the river, maybe hurl himself. Why had it never occurred to him that Toris had a girlfriend? Now that he thought about it, the Lithuanian did have a personality that made it impossible to imagine him having anything but a stable relationship, the kind where you dated faithfully for years and never saw anyone else. Feliks felt like that someone else, that outsider.

But if that was true, wouldn't it have come up in conversation? He should count his blessings that he and this girl weren't already living together and there weren't framed pictures of them together all over the house. Later he wondered if Toris would ever want anything other than a girlfriend, and he sighed and surveyed the neighboring houses to avoid resting his head in his hands. Everything was quiet, everything was just like before.

The blonde laughed to himself and realized he needed to stop worrying his nails.

Toris had spent time with him these past few weeks, reading to him, showing him around, having more physical contact with him than this girl on the German border; if anything, the girl who had sent the postcard should be jealous of him. If he thought of it that way, he could almost sympathize with her, this Marzena. Her sentiments weren't that different from what Feliks would have felt if weeks went by without his seeing Toris on the front steps.

Perhaps Toris loved another, or perhaps he loved her still. He didn't seem depressed or torn up about their separation when Feliks had seen him, but there were always those lonely days inside the house when he overstayed his welcome in bed and regrets came rushing back. They weren't something you talked about to a near stranger or even a new acquaintance, so Feliks had no way of knowing. He had to ask. Discreetly, because he wasn't sure how the Lithuanian would feel about him reading his mail even though it hadn't been in an envelope and was about as subtle as a bouquet of flowers.

Invigorated, he dropped the mail in the box and hurried up to Toris's door. He rang the doorbell and listened to its muffled sound, a hollow chime that sounded only when he kept his finger on the button.

"Toris?" He received no answer. "Are you there? I rang three times, so you should come down if you can hear me." Nothing. "Toris? Toris, if you're having one of those bad days, I can, like, totally make it better."

He gave up after he didn't receive an answer. Feliks wanted to howl at the door.

Toris had to know that the way he treated Feliks signaled that he wanted to be closer than regular friends. It was so tender, it bordered on romantic. He had to see that, had to know. Did he?

Feliks would have brooded on that question until it made him sick, but his uncle had granted his request. Tomorrow he would be free to deliver in the city, blue culottes and all. He found a pair of pants that fit him in the end, but the memory of those baggy shorts would never cease to be horrifying.

His route carried him past town squares and past pastel-colored buildings squished together, some plain, some ornately decorated around the windows. He knew where these were from looking at the map, but it was infinitely better to be on the street, looking up at them when they weren't squares on paper. Some things didn't appear at all, but Feliks remembered them just the same: statues and fountains, daily markets with fresh goods every day. He would stop there and pick up an apple or two afterward.

The job took half the day and left Feliks with circles under his eyes from getting up so early. When he finished, he wheeled his bike and its empty baskets over to a bench and sat down. Eduard had agreed to meet him here the day they officially switched to check up on him, take the bike back and all around make things easier for Feliks. He didn't think it necessary at the time, but now he was grateful for the rest and the extra time to plan out which stores to hit after the Estonian had gone (which wasn't for another half hour).

Eduard apologized for being late. He had stopped to buy vegetables from the market set up in the square for tonight's dinner. Feliks furrowed his brows.

"What's wrong?" Eduard asked. Feliks blinked a couple times to clear his head.

"I dunno, you just don't look like you go grocery shopping often. I've known you for years, and I've just never gotten that image in my head."

"Even if you know someone for a long time, there will always be things you don't know about them. And then those things you should have known but never assumed. But yeah, I'm not married, so here I am, buying groceries by myself. I should get back now. See you around."

With the bags on his shoulder, Eduard mounted the yellow bike and set off in the other direction.

The antibiotics were around the corner in the half-bath: tall bottles, stout ones, clear, opaque, but all the traditional brown, orange, or white associated with medicine. The room had to stay clean and organized for emergencies like this. Toris flew in in a panic, turning immediately to the medicine cabinet and seeing his scared face in the mirror. He knew exactly what to do, but it scared him every time; he thanked God that he hadn't put any rugs in the room, or he would have stumbled over it and hurt himself as well.

He grabbed the container of anti-inflammatories and rushed back into the dark room before he could waste any more time.

"_Viskas tvarkoj_, _viskas tvarkoj_. It'll get better. Take two of these like last time. I'll bring up a glass of water," Toris reassured his grandmother. Her joints had swelled up again, and the sheet was pooled on the floor so as not to irritate her feet. She called out loudly for her grandson, but the small effort seemed to have worn her out. She was so frail that the only noises she could make were moans and grunts of pain.

Toris was no less urgent in his rush to the kitchen, wondering why he didn't have a water dispenser set up by the bed. It would have been wise to keep the pills there too, but it had been so long since the last attack that he decided to clean up. That was a mistake. The stream flowing from the faucet seemed like it couldn't be any thinner. When the glass was full, Toris snagged a few ice packs from the freezer just to be safe.

Upstairs, he flipped the light on so he could see better. Knuckles and toes were pink and misshapen, and he mentally berated himself for not opening the safety lid of the medicine bottle; _Mociute_ obviously couldn't do it herself. He didn't calm down until he got the medicine down her throat. Then he sat to catch his breath. The past few minutes had been so hectic that he wouldn't have paid attention even if the entire dish rack downstairs collapsed and the pans clanged against the floor.

"Do you want the ice packs?"

She nodded, and Toris laid the first ones on her hands, which she always said hurt the worst. Luckily the swelling hadn't affected her knees this time. Swollen knees took longer to go back to normal, and during that time she couldn't walk on her own and Toris had to stay by her bedside.

"Don't you think it's getting a bit cold in here? Of course, that could be my old bones..."

"I'll put the heat on, _Mociute_," Toris assured her. "I know you used to boast of how first you used to tuck me in at night as a child, and then it was me tucking you in, but I can't do that this time, can I?"

"No, honey. I'll be fine. You go on about your day."

Toris was hesitant to leave, but she made a shooing motion with her hand despite its condition and struggled to slip it back under the ice pack. If she wanted him gone that badly, he'd better go—but not before fixing her ice pack.

The whole incident left him shaken. What he really wanted to do was sit down and collect his thoughts again, but his grandmother was right. There were always chores that needed to be done to get on with the day; she couldn't do them, so they fell to Toris to complete. He told himself there was nothing different about doing chores today than doing chores any other day. Besides, they helped clear his mind. It was just washing the rest of the dishes, sweeping, cooking, and checking the mail. Nothing big.

Feliks wasn't there as usual, but apparently Marzena wanted to get into contact with him again. He really didn't think he could handle correspondence with his ex-girlfriend at the moment, so he tossed her card on the table and told himself that he'd respond later. She deserved that much. Still, she was hard to talk to. Marzena wasn't someone he would call "understanding," and he had no way of knowing how she'd react if he wrote that he was no longer interested in having her as a romantic partner. Was he sad that didn't even blush when he thought of her? He blushed when he thought of Feliks, but not her. Two years had been too long between them, and it changed everything.

He wasn't sure if he had the courage to do it, but he wanted to talk to Feliks tonight. He wanted them to go out together, eat lunch, ride bikes, everything that he was scared to ask. If he could only get over his initial shyness he would be able to call, right? It took an hour of going through his drawers and every pocket he owned to find Feliks's number. When he found it, he was so happy that he didn't hesitate to dial it on their old landline, but while he was waiting for the phone to pick up on the other end, he got nervous again.

"Yes? This is Feliks," the person on the other side answered.

"Feliks." Toris stopped to calm his nerves. "How would you like..to go on a date?"


	5. Chats & Confessions

These chapters are getting shorter every time ^_^;. I'm going to upload two today because I missed a week in updating.

* * *

Normally Feliks wouldn't have the patience to stand in such a long line, but Toris had invited him out for ice cream, and this was the place he picked. This wasn't like with his parents, when he could sit at the table and wait for them to order the food. No, they had to stick together. A good seven customers waited in front of him shuffling their feet, counting change, or, in one woman's case, juggling children. In front was the business itself, little more than a stand although it was a chain that had cafés elsewhere. Scoping out the situation from his position near the back, Feliks could tell that their server wasn't exactly the fastest. He struggled to scoop the hard cream out of the bins.

"It usually doesn't take this long," Toris assured him.

"Looks like the server's new. That, or they're running out of ice cream because it's insanely late and you waited too long to ask me out."

The line moved up one, driving Feliks to complain and Toris to curse inwardly at picking a place with such poor service. He should have picked somewhere else. The coffee shop down the street, for example, or maybe even the ice cream place that was two blocks away. If he had gone there, they might already have their cones.

Feeling bad for making the other wait so long, Toris suggested that he go find them a table. Feliks didn't want to leave his side, but Toris pointed out that they were filling up fast and it would be terrible if they had to lean against a wall the rest of the night. They could always walk around, but he wanted a real sit-down date.

Most of the metal chairs were occupied with satisfied families come to finish their sweet treats after a hearty meal. Calmly, Feliks walked over to a table on the front row and draped his jacket over the back of one of the seats. It wasn't officially claimed, but the jacket should be a sufficient deterrent when there were other open tables in better locations. He was going to rejoin Toris in waiting for their turn. The menu was appetizing. Cones with fruit, cones with syrup, some at the height where they looked as if they would topple. Small wonder Toris liked this place.

He had just run up to Toris to ask which one was his favorite when the announcement came that the manager was closing shop a few minutes early. The picture he had in his head of the two of them enjoying ice cream cones melted away. But he didn't have to give up on their night.

"So, there's still this table. Wanna, like, sit down with me? There's no reason to go home yet."

Taking the chair with the jacket, Feliks couldn't help but launch into a discussion about how great it was to finally be with him again, seeing how Toris had locked himself inside and they had missed each other for the past couple weeks. Idly he twirled his spoon on the table, getting it stuck in dips between the surface.

"We could have gotten dinner if we came earlier. Now that I think of it I don't know why I didn't," Toris lamented.

"Don't worry. We're still in the same place. I mean, even if we ordered dinner, we'd still have gone out for ice cream unless you ordered something at the restaurant, and we'd end up right here together. It's a nice night," Feliks said.

The food wasn't the important part; Feliks had eaten a light dinner before he left the house, so he wasn't too hungry. He planned to take advantage of the lack of dripping distractions between them and ask something he had been wondering for a few days now.

"Toris, you know that postcard I gave you a while ago?"

"You sent me a postcard?"

"Well, not exactly. I'm the letter carrier, so I delivered it. The one with all the sparkles?"

"Yeah, it's on my desk at home. What about it?"

Feliks prepared himself for the inevitable. He had to ask if Toris had a girlfriend, and he couldn't put it off too long or he would never ask it.

"Is the girl who sent it, like, still your girlfriend?" If Toris hadn't asked him out on a date today, he probably would have sounded angrier, but he really didn't want to yell at Toris. He was the one dating him, but relationships were complicated.

"We fell out of touch a long time ago when I moved away."

"Oh." Now Feliks wouldn't have to worry about staging a break up.

"Do you miss her?" This question had Toris thinking for a minute.

"On occasion. Whenever something reminds me of a particularly good time we had together, I get a little sad, but other than that, not too much. Most days, I don't even think of her at all and then I wonder if I should feel guilty. We dated for two years, after all."

Toris picked at the paint on his chair. Feliks realized too late that he had brought up something Toris would be happier not remembering, and while he was glad Feliks didn't have a girlfriend, it wasn't worth his happiness to see Toris sad like this.

"Well why didn't she visit you? Poland's so not a huge country. They have trains."

By this time, the ice cream stand was completely shut down: the overhead door was pulled down over the window, the lights were off, and it was slowly being wheeled away down the block by the server who had long ago removed his apron and hat. The square was slowly emptying of people, and they were one of the few left among the couples passing the last few hours of the night over a cup of coffee. Toris suggested they order some, so he flagged down the next waiter that came by and ordered one for each of them.

"She did visit me. We'd take walks down by the river every night. But she didn't like having a long-distance relationship and she sort of gave up. We had good times."

Feliks nodded. He waited for their coffee to come before saying anything and stirred in a bunch of cream and sugar. He offered some to Toris, but he didn't take much.

"Sorry for reading your mail, then," he mumbled. "If you're mad at me, just don't say you won't trust me again although that would totally make sense—" he was speaking in run-on sentences now "— If you want, I'll switch routes and never have to pass your house again except for sometimes." Feliks could really use some ice cream to stuff his face with. Then he wouldn't have to carry on this awkward conversation at a normal speed. He could stall with coffee, but then he'd be making ugly slurping noises that would do nothing but add to his mess.

Had he ruined his chance of being with the Lithuanian boy forever?

Toris sighed. He wasn't half as troubled as Feliks seemed to think he was; by no means did he want to upset his whole job over something as trivial as this.

"Don't cry, Feliks! I don't like to argue much, and I'm bad at it besides, but...you've always struck me as a friendly, carefree person who wouldn't hold anything against me. So I don't mind that you read my mail."

"Really?" Feliks asked. He still felt like he had done a horrible thing. "I was going to ask you about if you had a girlfriend earlier, but you weren't home."

"Of course not. I have you."

They walked back to the parking lot hand in hand, Toris with his left hand in his pocket and Feliks swinging his bag high enough to hit anyone walking directly in front of or behind him within a three foot range. Toris to drive him home, and while he was there, Feliks spent that time working up the courage to ask for a kiss.

Toris wrote _back_. Toris wrote her back every time, usually within a few days. And Feliks was stuck delivering those, too. He had no idea if Toris was trying to brush her off, communicating with her as a friend, or falling in love all over again.

He knew he should trust Toris. He had no reason not to, but closed envelopes were naturally associated with suspicion. Though they didn't involve him at all, it fell on Feliks to deliver them, and it gave him a sinking feeling every time. Today's was pink and unadorned, but Feliks was willing to bet there was some fancy card inside that made up for that.

Maybe it would be better if Feliks gave up on this rural area and stayed working in the city. Baggy uniform 24/7. He wouldn't see Toris as much this way, so it seemed worth it on the days he didn't see him on the steps and foolish when he did.

The lady from before reprimanded him for being late again, and Feliks broke down.

He _really _liked Toris, but he didn't know the first thing about the other girl.

Unfortunately, both his uncle and Eduard said "no" when he asked about doing the city route full-time, which was a shame, because it was the perfect way out of tripping all over himself the next time they saw each other. He was so frustrated, he even went so far as to explain the situation to Klava, and complain like hell. He wasn't sure how much of it she understood, but she supported him with a hug. That still didn't stop him from crying in private, though.


	6. Friends in Common

As Marzena was the only one who lived in the modest apartment, it fell to her to get things ready in the morning and shake life into the house. She had nothing to eat unless she made it, and silence was the first thing she noticed when she got up to pull the covers over her bed.

Staring at herself in the mirror, with her dark brown hair pulled back and a thigh-length dress hugging her body, she felt rejuvenated. It felt nice to be going out again.

Toris was picking her up at seven. This was the last thing on her list. They would ride the train, and he would whisk her away back to his land where she would meet someone special. Feliks, it was? She was intrigued.

It took all of Feliks's self control not to speed by Toris's house without stopping. He had to remember what Toris told him last week and not to let these letters get to him. A while ago he had almost decided not to give Toris his mail at all, but that was going a little overboard.

This time when he arrived on his boyfriend's street, Toris was standing in the middle of it and waving his hands. Feliks stopped, but he wasn't sure how he felt about him being that close to cars.

"You need to be more careful, Toris. Like, what if someone hit you with a car and didn't come back to help? I don't know who would, especially because it's you, but if I had hit you I'm there wouldn't be any hope. Like, I would have gone all out with my mail mobile."

Toris ignored his safety warnings in favor of telling him the great news he had just got.

"Feliks, are you free next weekend?"

"What? Yeah, I'm free."

"Then why don't you come over? There's someone I want you to meet. I have to go pick her up in Lubuskie first. I would try to be discreet, but I think you know who I'm talking about now.." Toris laughed uneasily. Feliks did. Since the postcard had been the only thing on his mind ever since he got it, he made the connection immediately. Marzena lived in Lubuskie. He wasn't sure how this meeting would go, but he was willing to give it a try. Toris was obviously trying to make him feel better after last night.

"Yeah, pretty much. Okay, that sounds like a fun idea. I'm kind of sick of delivering all her love letters to you, but I think I would feel better if I met her in person."

"They're not love letters," Toris insisted.

"Whatever."

"But hold on, there's a catch."

"Like, what is it?" Feliks carried his moped over to the sidewalk and removed his helmet. Toris followed him in from the street. He expected this to be some condition for his behavior, like "you can't get mad at her" or "no calling her stupid nicknames after she leaves" (he wouldn't do things like that anyway; he thought of it, sometimes more than usual, but he could be decent).

"I need you to take care of my grandma. Just for the morning. Come early and watch over her to make sure she doesn't need anything. I'll hand you some of Marzena's notes you can look back on for help."

They went in, and Feliks waited in the sitting area while Toris brought down a file with all sorts of prescription information, paperclips, and emergency numbers. He spread the notes out on the table.

_I know it seems like there's a lot of medicine you have to take for arthritis, but there's a reason doctors prescribe it as often as they do. For example, I..._

"She's a medical student?" Feliks asked.

"She's been helping me with my grandmother, and since you'll be taking care of her, too, I also thought you should see some of her tips. Half the time she knows what she needs, but the other half is why you're there. You're the only one I trust to help."

Had the task been handed to him by anyone else, he would have refused, but for Toris he figured he could go through with it. He didn't have any other options. Toris _had_ said he was the _only_ one he trusted. Also, a major part of any stable relationship was meeting the family, and this was the next step.

With one last distasteful look at all the hearts decorating some of the letters, Feliks turned away and followed Toris and up the stairs. Although he had visited this house many times, he wasn't familiar with any of the rooms on the second floor. It seemed stuffy compared to the open, graciously lit downstairs with its wide living room and wooden surfaces all around, but that was normal for a place that just housed bedrooms. It smelled like sleep. Feliks wrinkled his nose, but Toris didn't notice; he was too focused on trying to open the door to the bedroom without making any creaks or pops.

The figure under the wrinkled covers seemed to be asleep.

"_Mociute_? Granny?" Said person shifted and tried to prop herself up, the bed's groans under her light frame a testament to its age. Today was a good day for her. Her joints hadn't pained her after her walk this morning, but she was worn out all the same. She seemed to be napping more and more during the day.

"Yes, child? Isn't it a little early to be waking me?" she inquired, her voice weak from the rest.

They both shuffled in and waited by the bedside. Taking her raspy voice as a cue, Toris rushed over to help, but by the time he got there his grandmother was already sitting. Like she thought, today was her day.

"I thought you might like to meet the person who's going to be taking care of you while I'm gone. This is Feliks." She offered her hand. Feliks almost missed it because he was nervously clutching the hem of his skirt. His apprehension still hadn't disappeared by the time her bony hand released his, but he would find a way to make this work.

Toris spent most of the ride enjoying the countryside. Normally any train ride would remind him of the brief time he spent going back and forth between parents, but this time he found himself appreciating Poland for Poland, and not thinking about his father's true home.

And then he met Marzena, who was the same girl, only more distant. Her affections never strayed beyond a hug, and they were both content with that.

It was the weekend now, and the first thing Feliks remembered when he woke up was that Toris was gone. The memory ruined his breakfast, and he went to work dragging his feet. Even the sight of the cherry red moped didn't excite him for more than a second. He pouted all the way over to it.

Then he remembered that he didn't have to deliver mail today. He promised Toris he would watch his grandma. He would still need the moped, though, so he checked that the slip of paper with Toris's number hadn't fallen out of his back pocket and set off. He didn't need to call anytime soon, but having it on him was reassuring. It was a small reminder that he'd be back this evening.

Despite delivering the mail almost daily for two years, it still faintly seemed like a chore. True, he enjoyed the open air, but handing out letters wasn't what he wanted to do today. He would have liked to be on a bike ride through the fields without the added responsibility, not puttering along with the company's unfashionable bag slung over his shoulders, and he almost got that. But he followed his route, to the house of his boyfriend because he made a promise.

Obviously Toris wasn't thinking when he talked to Feliks, or he would have handed him a key. As the blonde waited by the doorbell, he wondered how much longer it would take his grandma to open the door. Two minutes, three minutes, _if_ she had heard it. Eventually he made his way around to the back and found that the sliding door was unlocked.

"Hello?" he called. There was no answer, so he assumed that Toris's grandmother must have been asleep. That was okay; he wasn't in a hurry. He headed into the kitchen to get something to drink. A cup of tea was what he had in mind, but he ended up pouring a glass of soda instead, sloshing a few drops on the rug. He brought both the bottle and the glass to the couch, and waited for a good half hour until the expected person came to join him.

She came in in a loose nightgown, missing the cap that went with it to cover her thinning wisps of hair. Feliks asked if she needed anything, and when he returned with the ice pack for her hands he found her sitting in the same spot with a glass of soda. Then she asked him to drag the rocking chair closer to her from the other side of the room, and he had to lift it over his head to avoid getting it caught on the living room rug or knocking over the table.

At first they talked about the weather, but the conversation fast switched to family members. Feliks told her about the uncle who had given him a job that was responsible for his meeting Toris, and in exchange he learned about her dead husband. He declined when she offered to lead him to the cemetery where he was buried; he did not want to be within hearing distance of any dusty, spidery corpse-filled place ever. So then the subject shifted to Toris, the only person they both knew.

"I've lived with him for just under a year," the elderly woman began, "And he hasn't traveled much since then."

"Is that bad? Like, I didn't even think Toris _liked_ traveling."

"He doesn't usually, but the boy needs to get out sometimes and live as a young person. I can't go with him, but he always brings back nice pictures for our album."

Feliks sipped his drink and regretted not bringing napkins with him; the sticky residue left on his lips wasn't something he wanted on his sleeve.

"Hold on, I'll be right back," he said as he hurried to the kitchen. He tore a few paper towels off the roll under the cabinets and immediately wiped his mouth. In his opinion, this didn't take a long time, but when he got back, Toris's grandma was browsing through a thick photo album open on her lap. A gap on the bookshelf showed where she had taken it from.

Toris smiled out of most of the pictures, embracing his mother or father, but some had obviously caught him off guard. These were the ones Feliks liked the most, with his hair in his face, or a laugh that burst out at the wrong time. Why didn't Toris like to travel often? According to the pictures, he looked like he was having fun.

Then he looked over at the old woman beside him. She was dear to him, but taking care of her must have seemed like such a chore sometimes. It was a wonder Toris didn't hang out with friends all the time and neglect her. But no, he remembered, and didn't seem to mind. He didn't let others make him forget the ones he loved.

And that, Feliks thought, was what made his _Miesko_ such a jewel. Maybe he was over Marzena after all.

He came in the door with her close to dinnertime. After an hour of forced conversation with her, Feliks didn't think she seemed that bad.

When Feliks got home, Klava came running up to him, giggling.


End file.
